muMs-ography

My photo
muMs is an award-winning New York City based Poet and a member of the Labyrinth Theater Company.

muMs

muMs
muMs the Schemer ===> Schemer: fiend, foe, friend, fear, /swallower of your fear, /blasphemer, /dreamer…. /to hold, to have, to be in a condition akin to, to victory he prevails! /A mathematical or philosophical diagram representing the astrological aspects of the planets, emotions and intellect on scales, /teller of your tale /in a letha-phorical outline, /a concise examination crafty and secretive in sign, /a systematic and organized chaotic plot. /I am muMs the schemer and you, are not. ===> The first ‘m’ is lower-cased /concerned with race /and small manipulative matters of that sort: /the things in our face /that bleed into our heart. /The ‘u’- also small- leads me to look to the sky, walk there the edge of a shore equating to particles of sand, stars, the moon. To be under all that which is bigger than me lead’s to the second ‘M’ capitalized for the manipulation /of that that from which all shall begin /and again /from when /we least expect. /The ‘S’ is the trick: the hush of it all. /The control over what we discuss, beckon or call /or plural to represent the many that know /or just that the path is a windy road? /No matter, it also is small. ===> muMs, the schemer and echo-er of it all.

welcome to a new day --goRealer

Friday, June 14, 2013

TRANSHUMANISTIC EMCEES





TRANSHUMANISTIC EMCEES
rough vocal


I'm going to teach you the full potential of the emcee.

the future is a mist all about we.

calling the wisdom of we, wizardry.

#transhumanistic #emcees spit the real so hard they piss off the #pop.
they come after you with stakes, pitchforks and torches.

The enlightened ones view a corpse and the sunset as the same.
Learn to love the rain as u do the sunshine... accept perfection.
some rapper's spit turn #grass brown.

earth is the #grass

#emcee is a #class


I get at rhymes with #serenity.

They don't know that behind the iris is the black hole that'll fibbonacch you to infinity.

Porous souls rhyme about empty holes

Wish them double negatives added up to something.

your rhymes don't do #nothing

rappers now are like bad #wigs in the rain.

I'm that #suckaemcee you had to put all your #hate on.
It's just time.
I'm that sucka emcee you feared
put in your spit work before your spit's worth.
Some o u's should get blessed by the #RA before you ever check a one two.
Some o u's don't deserve the title #EMCEE
… conveying wack history,
better watch you some #SpikeLee. #learnufuckerssomething

I'm running over rappers.
#heros got the right #shoes to run in.
Through all technicality.
the futuristic #transhumistic emcee moves forward though all possibility.
"get at the #root. fuck it let's get at this loot."
-thus sayeth the wayward emcee of the past
Get at that money till your honey done bedded the richer nigga with #BIG-ger chain.
Get at it for real now, money aint gone get it.

Other than to take, what does the #emcee give.
What purpose is the #emcee in society
niggas can rhyme #leaveitatthat.
but #niggas can rhyme about money
Aint interested in enough, more than money, to speak on anything with any real passion.
A lotta #emcees got skills and nothing to really talk on...

my #hoodie, my #skittles.

...closed up in a sun-glassed concealed, narcissist-revealed simulacrum
way the fuck out
#linkedin but way out
sifting through our #business cards of doubts
but the idolatry gone keep us on the couch
soon we gone be food hunting
everybody wanna talk talk #talk talk. don't nobody wanna do nothing.
#rap #rap #rap all up your goods with that.
spit for what???? ask yourself!

ah... let these rappers rap. to each they own. just don't be shocked when I aint impressed.

ahhhh... I'm up for this.
I'ma liquify they lyrics till we can identify they realness.
Im gonna break emcees down from fakes to gaseous states
I'm gonna give microphones negative charges from my positive/negative ionic releases/ egotiscal emcees'll get repelled./ I'll cast scheming type spells over turntables making it unable for you to flow.

I'll never lose forever!!!

THUS, LET THIS BE THE VENGEANCE OF THE SUCKA EMCEE.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

POWER


I aint much.
I'm not much more then potential. I aint more than what I can become. 
I am a slave to time. 
I want Power. I've been powerless so long. 
John F. Kennedy said, 
"The ancient Greek definition of happiness was the full use of your power along lines of excellence".
There are people in the world who think John F. Kennedy is an airport. 
that is Power.

--goRealer

Saturday, May 25, 2013

artist: right now again

Artist:

Surfing for inspiration. The world bores me. Don't give nothing enough to give it time. my emotions numb? Feel the moment. not enough to take it home. I'm thirsting for concentration. the world bores me. Don't give nothing enough to give it time. detonate explosions and run. Feel the moment. hot enough to make it a poem. time bursts towards annihilation. curled on a shore bleeding. can't live discussing living in line. time eroding till done. Steal the moment. heart scuffed, baked and gone. the universe is expanding. pearls allure me. can't forgive nothing enough to forsake alone a first hesitation. face the world towards we. afloat to live the nothing discussed in the mind. Oceans run. real consignment. owe enough to fake your roam, cursing your own inclination. the world bores me. Don't give nothing. Corrupt what lives in the mind. Lie in your potions, numb. Feel the moment rot. luxurious. awake the tone. lips pursed for pretention. a girl floors me. Don't give nothing enough. give it time. till devotion is won. Feel the moment enough to take it home.

-goRealer

Friday, May 24, 2013

artist: right now



Artist.
it aint been good. sleep is off. trying to write in the night. smoke breaks under the stars. birds chirpn.  it's kinda nice but aint nothing coming. none of that deep extra I find myself wallowing in.  meanings  of this, meaning of that. theories and conclusions and shit. archetypes and metaphors. aint nothing coming. life's got me stunned. I'm caught between having what I want and self-destruction for the sake of creativity. I'm sure my justification is valid. let's see, we all gonna go so I'ma go on my own terms. But then I'm on that eastern; give over to the univierse. let it dictate your move. the signs is fuzzy. aint sure I'm reading em right. I should probably clean up my desk. no, I need to write. I need to write. Moms is finally sleep. she went off tonight. I aint hear her when she went out the door. 3'oclock in the morn, in the rain. she banging to get in the door. the door is open. what are you doing outside in the rain at 3am? why you talking to me like that? you always beat me up. conversation done. she cry and kick things till she's tired. I pretend I don't hear. take an el the head. blow the smoke up. anxiety, gotta let it out. wanna punch something. make it feel me. make the earth move. make somebody change their direction. wanna affect something. I need  blank sheet of paper. a need a smooth point pen. I need to stop typing and...

-goRealer

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's day is everyday in my house


video

My mother has Alzheimer's disease. I buy flowers once a week for her, the house. I could tell her 100 times that today is mother's day, she wouldn't remember. Before acting, poetry I took care of the elderly and the sick in a hospital/ nursing home in the South Bronx. That's the only reason I've been able to take care of her this long. I never really understood what hard meant until I woke up in the middle of this situation with my mother, with little options. I also had no clue what I could and couldn't handle. 
People like to say, you're a good son or that's a really great thing you're doing. I say thank you. Little do they know it will kill me if I allow it to. Last week I was awoken in the middle of the night when my mother decided she want to drop a load of her shoes onto my bed because she didn't know what to do with them. They're in my way! she says. She's pulled knives on me, told me she wants to kill me, slapped me, thrown tea on me. That's what I can remember. Sometimes I think Alzheimer's is like a cold I've caught from her. But it's just that there is so much on my mind at one given moment. I've missed many appointments, auditions. On top of having to take care of the bills and administer her medication, I have to worry if she forgets to turn off the stove, puts a pot in the microwave, things of that nature. On the less than rare occasion she does, I have to pretend that someone else did it or take responsibility for it myself. If I blame her or raise my voice she'll realize there is something wrong with her and go into a deep depression. A son does not want to hear his mother cry, ever. 
I've been taking care of her for more than two years now. I am now starting to feel the effects of it. Ive lost a lot of weight do to stress. I guess I'm happy about that but I'm scared it will come back do to some late night binge eating. I don't sleep. I'm developing an addiction to caffeine pills. I don't want to dose off driving back and forth to the city when I have to. 
Everyone we've known is gone. People call to check in, come by to see how we're doing but never stay long enough to help. When someone does come over I can see their desire to leave just as the awkwardness of my mother's repetition becomes evident to them. Everyday is a new struggle and journey. Daily I have to go through her drawers to find her toothbrush, shoes, sometimes food… My brother and I have spoken about a nursing home but after research I realize that's for either the really rich or the very poor. I could literally lose my house. The other option is to get an in-house nurse. That is also a scary option. Aside from having a complete stranger in my home taking care of my mother, there is the thought of how my mother would treat her. The biggest fight is my mother's need to feel independent, to feel like there is nothing wrong with her. She constantly asks me what is wrong with her, why can't she remember things. She wakes sometimes looking for her mother, her father, her brothers. She talk to me about me: Where's Craig? I am Craig mom. oh. <= depression. Like I said, I'm starting to feel the effects of this struggle on my self. My mood can get dark. I went out to the movies the other night with some friends to get out the house. I could feel my cynicism, my meanness, my disregard for others. I found myself taking out things on my friends I can't release in my house. I see it. I feel it. 
This post isn't really about looking for solutions. I know exactly what I have to do. I just need a little purge. And the truth is if I had to do it all over again, I'd do the same. My parents made me who I am today. Before my father died, I carried him up and down steps after he lost his legs to diabetes. On his deathbed he asked me promise to take care of my mother. He didn't have to ask. 

Happy Mother's day.
goRealer  

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Single take Lo-Fi Lacerations to the Existence of Digital

Lo-fi lacerations to the existence of digital. Low-fi lacerations to the existence of hi-def classifications and resistance to critical ipad thinking, a breathe-hard's distance to staring, probably evolve to not blinking and a resistance to caring. Think u didn't know how to talk to a girl now? the cause of infinite short time processes of what the World Wide Web will allow applied to the head will bestow fallacies in the microscopic specifics of pixels and visions like sad clowns on black unicorns smoking crumbled rainbows rolled in dreams carrying death just same. maybe change your screen name and password and the daemon wont track back to your email. We caught in simulacra-styled (hashtag) #wefail of the soul. But here's a website that says there ain't no such thing as a soul. We just synapses across the sen-sor-e-all spectrum, a sign, perhaps of grandier deception. Who shot who in massa chu, who to say what exactly the CIA do? who put that tree in the center of the garden in the first place? who hustled who for the first taste. who needs who in their place? this is a low-fi laceration to the existence of the spiritual, that momentary truth just outside the womb. smacked into sense of the self. The truth, gone like a mist, amidst the fear. The politics. The wealth, the greed. Close all other applications for optimal speed. Stay connected to a landline of mankind cause we're not sure what happens in the air, in the cloud. can't remember before rapper's delight and section eight. or the reason why we wanted the crowd loud. maybe I gotta whisper this shit you. DJ, Can we turn up the time? Make it loud for me for you. But... Time doesn't fit in your pocket but this mini connection to your so called friends do. The yang to that ying is a lo-fi analogue monologue of love whispered to an ear from the heart, every ounce of it true. What do we want? The future. When do we want it? Now. low-fi lacerations to the existence of digital. self-set incarcerations, insistence is pivotal now for our health we'll vet, persistence is critical we need to use our brain power!!!!! we need to take a sanity shower sit for sane hour forget what we've been told and think.

fear is a warning and I'm scared I wake in the morning not sure about how and where. what and why. living to live prepared to die but I'm scared and I don't know why maybe I'm ill prepared for every days how the earth move stay with me, maybe I just go gainst the grain. that's what the birth do me me, that live in the fear. FUCK yo know what, I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that, there. I'm afraid…. you took me wrong like I'm hooked on a bong fight over a wrong look, a song A book... be gone. sing me the wind, son. sing me the discourse of the force to be with. but I came across a sea on a bed of broken glass somebody close the window I'm cold, and losing faith fast. who too put organic voodoo invention in condensed apprehension eyes closed to the tension. lies. the night time news is an up to the minute invention. the prime time views, based on numbers of no limit, the only intention, with no disguise. I'm afraid to say something. I drink a glass a water bend deep over my cereal peep people crossing past my window in my peripheral I turn on the radio. instead I see the golden ratio everywhere I aint had no liquor no beer no tree. All I see is spiraling circles and in the center is me. Fear is a warning and I'm scared I'm shook to the bone bout whats going on. theres definitely fear in the air. I should just probably sit hear in my chair click open my face full of friends and pretend like I care. my ends is bare. leave my house for what? I'm riddled with fear. only motivation, no job no chair so I spit all of ladi-dadi from out of the air jump in the shower. brush my teeth comb my hair jump on my train, be kinda late again That Rakim playlist bouncing my ear I live for this or this is for what I live why isn't this bliss, its just fear of the limits of what I can give the cat cross me right there. I wonder if he feel the fear I wonder if his thunder got rain showers near do the powers that be care about me, that lives in the fear. me, that hides behind a tree afraid of what I see

Talk hot off till its all shot off. every thought caught in the vault of the shiny show off, off. Take all of your belongings off All these things we gotta have halved and infinite of nothing worth all you can carry on the train platfom in a bad part of town, blind, alone, in the night. your 7inch Loubotins'll get stuck in these cobble stones head tangled with booty bounce poems in the headlights. dance to celebrate! Sweat to the spirt of beats. I told my lawyer true deeps ain't got nothing to refer to nothing to think on when that mind race and the heart beat all u you feel is the now The wave pattern got u thinking on now. That repetitive action ain't the distraction. It fills the now. tomorrow and yesterday don't measure to the pleasure of specific feelings calculated down to the ceiling of a second. Weapons of destruction flow from those who hold onto the constructions and dealings of the past. Talk hot off. How do we make them good feelings last? By walking through the woods across the broken glass to a tomorrow defined by the deeds of today. and hey, if that bag u pass in that window makes you throw you head back and feel some relief, if that blinged out case for your iPhone5 help you to survive, if that Bourghati lease help you to further understand peace, then you need to cop that, now, no matter the cost, no matter the how But talk hot off to the bare essence of what the spirit will allow less you love it but don't love it cuz of how you look in it look good in it cuz o how you love it. keep the sanity above it or you gone revolve to rage, devolve a stage sending garbage to a deeper state of thought mending the wounds around the diamond harness from whence you was caught. till hence we was bought. till the brain density was wrought with the intense religiosity of naught the haute couture of the future is the new black the paradox of wack the paradigm shift to uplift a stack to somebody pocket while you cop cheap fabric from the retail up the block who get his from the outlet who get his from a can off a boat on the dock that came from China, who devalue they dollar to make you holla 'gottdamn the shit is hot. but talk hot off till its all shot off. every thought caught in the vault of the shiny show off, off.

time after time I pen rhyme after rhyme digging deep into the deep confines of the mind looking for the perfect beat the right waveform to think on the feet while the music is blasting the sacrifice of passion time after time I pen rhyme after rhyme searching for that universal sign I aint got no qualms with how the universe go all I see is circles and thats all I know. time after time I pen rhyme after rhyme time after time I pen rhyme after rhyme time after time I pen rhyme after rhyme looking for the perfect beat: an expedition to seek and define the picturesque purpose, seeking the sword falling worth from end back to birth found the infinite curse in the garden scarring the ignorance with the truth I never wanted to know now I know, the proof of the said truth and it's existence in the infamous infinity, to pinpoint, like an epiphany, the life span of a flake in the snow. but the brain is finite Life standing in the middle of nowhere nowhere to the left nowhere to the right. life is a question of what you are supposed to do the purpose and wrath to defend the day and night from who? survive to strive to make a step towards nowhere in a prada shoe nothing goes and nothing stays this is life's have. this is the worth of our time. time after time, after time i pen rhyme after rhyme.